


Nachos for One

by WaitingxInxSilence



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: After Movie, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Short One Shot, snack time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:26:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3754516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaitingxInxSilence/pseuds/WaitingxInxSilence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marianne introduces Bog to her favorite snack, but he's not impressed.  Rated teen for two swear words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nachos for One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neopuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neopuff/gifts).



> Dedicated to neopuff for giving me the prompt.

Marianne dragged her last corn chip through the dregs of the congealing cheese dip.  Bog leaned in behind her, one hand resting on the top rail of her chair.

“Bog, you know how I feel about looming.”  
  
He was quick to retort, “I’m not looming.”

Marianne tilted her head back against the rail and pursed her lips, “Then what do you call this?”

He’d call it looming.  Bog paused, flustered, and shifted to her side.  She smiled at the small victory, but tried to keep it to herself.  She knew that as king, Bog wasn’t used to being questioned, and gloating over every challenge wasn’t worth the fight.  Satisfied, the princess turned her attention back to scrapping every last possible bit of precious cheese on her nacho.

Bog cleared his throat, “Um, what exactly is that?”

“This?”  She raised the chip as though giving a toast, “This… is a nacho.  Plural: nachos.  They’re pretty much the best thing in the world.”  Seeing the insecure look on his face, Marianne caught herself, “Well, the best thing in the world you can eat.”

The king tested the foreign word, “ _Nechos_ …”

“Nachos.  Would you like to try one?”

Bog could feel his anxiety spike.  People didn’t just offer him things.  Not like this.  What was proper protocol here?  It wasn’t a peace offering.  He didn’t have anything of equal value to give in return.  He didn’t even know the approximate worth of a nacho.  Would she be insulted if he refused?

“The chips themselves are made from corn– it’s a huge plant that takes a few months to grow, and the orange stuff is made from cheese.  Cheese…” Marianne trailed off, trying to think of a flattering way to describe where cheese came from.  Of course, the simplest route would be to tell the truth, but somehow saying, _“Well Boggy, when we fairies want some cheese, we send out some poor sucker, usually a prisoner, to hunt down a rat– and only a mother rat will do– tug on their teats until milk comes out, and if they aren’t ripped to shreds, the prisoner is escorted back to their cell while everyone else waits for chefs to do some mysterious magic involving a wooden table and spoon they never wash and the milk has to curdle somewhere along the way, and poof! Cheese.”_ didn’t strike her as a good conversation to have with a new… what ever they were.  “Um, the cheese part is usually served hot, but it’s not exactly fresh anymore."

“I’ll pass.”

Marianne shrugged as if to say “more for me,” and shoved the entire chip into her mouth.

Bog snorted, “That was lady-like.”

The princess kicked her feet on to the table, feeling completely at home in his den.  “Of course it was,” she gave a carnivorous grin, “I’m a lady.”

Bog laughed in earnest, and when Marianne reached her arms up to him, he rewarded her with a kiss.

Bog nearly coughed in her mouth.

Marianne made no attempt to hide her concern and leapt from her chair, “Bog are you okay?”

He turned, still coughing, and pushed her away, “I’m fine.  I’m fine.  It’s nothing,” he sputtered.

“Nothing my ass!  You were fine two seconds ago.  Bog–”

He backed away when she jabbed her fingers in his chest,  “I said I’m fine.”

Marianne grabbed him by the shoulders, “Bog.”

“You taste like curdled rat’s milk.”

The words came out in a rush.  Marianne had to replay them before they fully sunk in.  She tasted like curdled rat’s milk.  She wanted to be mad.  God dammit, she was mad!  What kind of man tells a girl she tastes like a rat’s anything?  Sure, cheese was curdled rat’s milk.  And sure, she was just eating cheese, so it made since that her kisses would taste like cheese– but _still_!

Bog watched as Marianne’s emotions played across her face.  She seemed to be in her own private world.  He’d said the wrong thing.  It was an accurate thing, but it’d still been wrong.  Logically, they both understood that being in a new relationship, they were bound to make mistakes, but this was a big one.  No doubt, when she exploded, he’d be hearing about it for days to come.

Marianne’s head snapped up and startled Bog out of his thoughts.  “You are so damn lucky I love you.”

Bog laughed in relief.  He combed his callous fingers through her hair, smiling at her wings fluttering in response, “Don’t I know it.”

Marianne tugged him down by his carapace and kissed him again.

His body thrummed in return.  His wings twitched violently and he felt his pulse drumming in his ears as her tongue skimmed his lips.

And he only gagged once.


End file.
